


Sunlight on my Skin

by hellowkatey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, Drabbles, Original Character(s), POV Original Female Character, Reader-Insert, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-04 22:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18822391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellowkatey/pseuds/hellowkatey
Summary: Before the Winter Soldier, there was Agent 8. You and the Winter Soldier were trained together, worked together, and later, escaped together. You thought you would never see him again. And then you did.Warnings: brief descriptions of depression/suicidal thoughts





	Sunlight on my Skin

 

It had been roughly two years since you saw the sun. You were always a night owl, preferring the low glow of the moon to the burning of the sun. You used to complain about having to go on missions during the day. Now, you wish every day you could see the sun just one more time.

You were hiding out in an old Hydra facility. It was the last place they would ever look for you. 

You didn't think about the elements.

The facility was a secret bunker in the Rockies in America. It was great, until an avalanche trapped the only door in and out. Luckily you had stockpiles of military MRE's. Unluckily, you ran out of the last of your rations three days ago. 

Your stomach feels like it is eating itself from within. You know you can survive for another week or so, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. You lay down your bed, curling your legs into your chest. Sleep has been plentiful lately. Not much else to do anyway. 

You fall into a strange state between dream and reality. Flashbacks and snippets from your previous life flash through your mind, changing every time you toss and turn to reveal a scene worse than the last. The things you've done. The things you've seen. Some days you don't think about them as much. Other days, like this, they are the only thing on your mind. 

His face flashes in your mind. Those blue eyes that made you remember your humanity. That dark hair you would run your fingers through and braid back on particularly hot days. Your heart aches and you don't know if it's due to the hunger or your longing. 

Faint voices weave in and out of your dreams. The super soldier in you is screaming at you to wake up and investigate. but your eyes refuse to open. You haven't felt this weak in a long, long time. You don't care to push through it anymore. The life you've lived has been soaked in the blood of the innocent. As much as you try to hide this with your newfound carefree attitude, when you're alone, you can feel the toll it has taken on you. The things they made you do. The eyes of your kills, lifeless. Terrified in their last moments as the life drips from their dilated pupils. 

While trapped in this bunker you considered putting yourself out of this misery a few times. A few things have stopped you. The first is that you're scared of dying. Scared of what may be on the other side. Scared that maybe there isn't another side. For someone that partook in missions in which you danced on the cusp of living and dying nearly every day, you fear heavily.

The second is that you are done spilling blood. Even your own.

The third is a sliver of hope, dim in the back of your mind. You want to see the sun again. You want to feel the grass under your toes and the feeling of rain hitting your skin. Once you learned what living a normal life was like again, you are not ready to die in a Hydra compound. You were born in a Hydra facility and you will fight to your last breath if you will die in one too.

 

"In... get... Nat..." 

The voices get closer. Your eyelids flutter open and a blurry face flashes into your vision. 

"Steve! ... awake." 

Warm hands hit your freezing cheeks. Panic washes through you. This is not a dream.

Your eyes fly open, lashing out with your arms and legs but everything seems to go in slow motion. A tall man with bright blue eyes scrunched with worry and neat blonde hair stares down at you, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up like you are weightless. From how little you have been eating you probably are...

A woman's voice rings out

"Call...uce. Medevac..."

Everything goes black as you fade into unconsciousness

* * *

 Everything is white. 

You're staring at the ceiling, trying to process where you are. Usually, you would be jumping out of the hospital bed you are obviously in, ripping out the needles and cords attached to you. 

Something inside you is nagging you. Telling you you're safe. You don't know why you are trusting your obviously unreliable subconscious. It hasn't been making the best decisions lately.

You let them take you. You don't know who  _them_ is. It could be Hydra for all you know and you are being pumped with drugs to get you ready to be brainwashed all over again.

The heart monitor, which has been passively beeping along in the background of your inner dilemma, is now going insane. 

The door opens, and a tall, blonde haired Boy Scout looking man walks in, holding both his hands up in an attempt to calm you. 

"Woah, there, it's okay. You're okay."

"Where am I?" Your voice is raspy from your dry mouth and throat. The man hands you a cup of water from the side table, which you take in your hands, but don't drink quite yet. 

"My name is Steve. You're at the Avengers compound in New York." 

"New York City?" 

"Well, not quite. Upstate."

"Why am I here?"

Steve chews on his lip, looking quite conflicted. 

"We found you half dead in an old Hydra bunker. We, uh, have a few questions... if you are willing to talk to us, of course." 

"What if I'm not willing?" 

Another pause. Like he is weighing how much to tell you. He probably has orders he is trying to satisfy. You know the feeling. 

"Well, we hope that you eventually will want to." 

You can't blame him for having to hold you here. By now they've probably run your face and prints through the system and found out who you are. What you've done. You don't mind informing on Hydra, not that you know much of their recent activities. You will tell them where all their secret bases are, of all the operations and agents they have in place that may still be active. What do you have to lose? You were a prisoner to them even when you were free. The only way to not be a prisoner to them is to be one to someone else. Maybe Steve and the Avengers will be nicer jailers than Hydra. You can count on that. 

You look Steve in the eyes and bring the cup of water to your lips, taking a long swig of the cool liquid. Water has never tasted so good. 

"What do you want to know?"

* * *

Two Weeks Later

Your weight was on its way back into the normal zone, your information helped the Avengers take out two active covert Hydra operations, and for the first time in a long time, you felt at ease enough to genuinely smile. The Avengers turned out to be wonderful. You have met a few of them by now. Natasha and you have become fast friends, divulging into many late night discussions on your past demons and the struggle of letting go of those. She recommended a good therapist to talk to and you are actually considering seeing her. Your life is turning around. 

Today, you shared with Steve your desire to go outside. You've been cooped up in the compound for all this time. The first week was touch and go trying to get your vitals up. This week has been jam-packed with everyone going on missions. Despite your contributions to their cause, you haven't quite reached the level of trust to wander the grounds freely. Bruce has hinted that you may be receiving your very own room soon, which is enough for you to comply with the precautions they have in place for the time being.

"It's quite cold outside." 

"I spent much of my long life in Russian winters, I think I can handle a New York autumn." You chuckle. Steve laughs weakly, but there seems to be something else on his mind. "What is it?" 

"Nothing, nothing, just thinking about when the last team is supposed to get in today. I think we have enough time." 

He smiles and offers his hand to help you up. You grin, giddy to  _finally_ go outside. 

He leads you through the many hallways and doors of the compound until one last door is opened and a stream of sunlight hits your eyes and you immediately feel the warmth of the sun on your skin. You push past Steve and practically run out into the yard, falling down on your knees. Steve stumbles after you, probably thinking you are falling or something but he stops and watches you from a few yards back as you tilt your head back, close your eyes, and let the outdoors swallow you hole. The sun, the chilly breeze causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, the crunch of the leaves under your knees and the grass tickling your shins. It's better than you remember. 

You open your eyes and look at the sky. It's bluer than you remember and makes you feel small and limited under such a dome of great expanse. Much better than the gray walls you stared at for years on end in that bunker or the white ones in your temporary room of the compound. This blue is your new favorite color. 

You turn around to see Steve leaning against a post and you take in the entire Avengers compound. It's massive, surrounded by beautifully landscaped land and the background of miles and miles of color changing trees. The Rockies had a beautiful view, but you can't complain about this one either. Steve smiles, watching your excited expression, but it slowly fades. You raise an eyebrow at him.

He approaches you quickly, anxiety etched in his knitted brows and flushed cheeks. "[y/n], I need to tell you something." 

"What is it?"

The sound of a jet quickly approaching overtakes your senses. You turn to watch the large plane land but Steve grabs your wrist. You turn back to him. 

"It's a very long story, but there is another one here like you. He was a soldier for Hydra, brainwashed, and escaped just like you. He doesn't know you're here and I was going to wait to tell you but--"

"Steve?" a voice... a familiar voice rings out from behind you. Steve's eyes flicker up to look past you, widening. He takes a deep breath and the looks down at you. 

"Hey, Buck." he replies, and you slowly turn around to meet the voice that is nagging at the back fo your brain. 

A man stands but ten feet from you dressed in a long sleeve dark blue shirt, black work pants, combat boots, and wielding a very large machine gun. His hair is long and dark, half pulled back from his eyes but the loose tie doesn't stop a few tendrils from falling down into his face. He has a familiar face, with a strong jawline littered with the beginnings of a full beard and high cheekbones. It isn't until you meet his eyes that the realization dawns on you, and from the widening of his sky blue eyes and the color that drains from his face, you can tell he is having the same realization. 

You walk towards each other, neither of you able to speak but your eyes trained on one another, afraid to look away if this is all a dream. When you meet in the middle he reaches out timidly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder and then running softly to your cheek. Checking that his eyes aren't deceiving him. When his fingertips make contact with your skin he gasps, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"I thought you were dead, Eight," he whispers, referencing your old agent code. You shudder at the name. You used to call each other Eight and Winter. Even when you were free from the brainwash and he figured out his real name and you chose your own name-- something you never realized was such a big deal until you finally had a name of your own that wasn't a number branded into your skin-- you still would still use those nicknames as a reminder that the past is the past. The present and the future are unwritten. If you could redefine your names that were used to strike fear into your enemies as affectionate nicknames among friends, then the past can be turned to good through time. 

"I thought the same, Winter." 

Before you can process anything you are pulled into a tight embrace. Bucky wraps his arms around you and you do the same, melting into his touch. After you escaped, Bucky was a safety blanket for you and you for him. You were never lovers--you both knew the consequences of going down that rabbit hole. You were both too afraid of what would happen if Hydra were to find you.

That's what you told each other at least. That's how you rationalized the unresolved tension, the electricity between you. Your relationship became just that, but with the title of friends. Roommates. Well, if roommates live together, sleep next to one another, divulge deep personal fears and insights, and occasionally gave in to physical desires then yes, you were  _just roommates_. You're also not stupid and neither is Bucky. You both knew what you were, but the lingering super soldiers in both of you were not letting the love you felt for each other come to terms. 

So you moved around, stayed on your toes, and tried to live a normal life. You even got a job in the stockroom of a retail store when you were living in Bucarest. The last time you saw Bucky was the morning before you left for work.

 

"I'm leaving," you said to him, kneeling down on the mattress to loom over his sleeping figure. The sun was not even up yet, but it was a long walk across town to your job so you always had to get an early start. Plus, the fewer people out and about to run into you on the street, the better. Bucky grumbled, rolling over to face you. His eyes opened to a squint as he peered up at you. 

"Come back to bed." he reached out for your hand but you shooed him away. 

"I have to go to work, Bucky." 

"You could not go to work." 

"Shh, you know I have to." 

"I know." he groans. His eyes opened more and you gazed into his beautiful blue eyes. 

"Are you going to the market today?" 

"Ya, when I wake up for real." 

"Grab me a few plums will ya? They're in season I think." 

He smiled at you. It was a lazy, sleepy smile that you loved so much. 

"Of course." 

You patted him on the shoulder and he rolled back over, falling back asleep almost immediately. 

When you returned from work, the apartment was trashed and Bucky was nowhere to be found.

 

Now, resting in his warm embrace, the pain of coming back to an empty apartment rushes back to you. The panic you felt. The anger when he was in the papers, a wanted man. You knew they got him, and you were in a stockroom instead of being at his side. 

You tried to find him, but as quickly as he was the talk of the town, he was a ghost. You thought he was gone forever, but now your arms are wrapped around his waist and your tears are staining his shirt. 

He pulls back, his own eyes teary. You rest your forehead against his, noses nearly touching. 

"We have a lot to talk about." 

You stare into his eyes. They're the same color as the sky. 

You lean in, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back, holding you tighter and bringing his hands up to cup both of your cheeks. The kiss is brief, not meant to be a passionate expression in front of the other Avengers that you know are standing around observing you and Bucky. It's meant to set the tone for what finding one another means. There will be no dancing around it this time, and from the way he responded you know that he feels the same way. 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thinking of extending this one-shot into a multichapter story...


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